“I can come to the play with you to-morrow night, after all,” he said. “I have wired to Campion to make a fourth, and you will get some other woman, won’t you?”
“I will try,” said Lady Ver, and she looked right into his eyes, then she turned to me. “I shall feel so cruel leaving you alone, Evangeline” (at once almost she called me Evangeline, I should never do that with strangers), “but I suppose you ought not to be seen at a play just yet.”
“I like being alone,” I said. “I shall go to sleep early.”
Then they settled to dine all together at her house, and go on; so, knowing I should see him again, I did not even say good-bye to Lord Robert, and he left by the early train.
A number of the guests came up to London with us.
My leavetaking with Lady Katherine had been coldly cordial. I thanked her deeply for her kindness in asking me there. She did not renew the invitation; I expect she felt a person like I am, who would have to look after herself, was not a suitable companion to her altar-cloth and poker workers.
Up to now—she told Lady Ver—of course I had been most carefully brought up and taken care of by Mrs. Carruthers, although she had not approved of her views. And having done her best for me at this juncture, saving me from staying alone with Mr. Carruthers, she felt it was all she was called upon to do. She thought my position would become too unconventional for their circle in future! Lady Ver told me all this with great glee. She was sure it would amuse me, it so amused her—but it made me a teeny bit remember the story of the boys and the frogs!
Lady Ver now and then puts out a claw which scratches, while she ripples with laughter. Perhaps she does not mean it.
This house is nice, and full of pretty things as far as I have seen. We arrived just in time to fly into our clothes for dinner. I am in a wee room four stories up, by the three angels. I was down first, and Lord Robert and Mr. Campion were in the drawing-room. Sir Charles Verningham is in Paris, by the way, so I have not seen him yet.